


Insanity

by Gotta_stalk_em_all



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Death, M/M, Rape, Royalty AU, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, War, non con, non main character death, slow start, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gotta_stalk_em_all/pseuds/Gotta_stalk_em_all
Summary: Bokuto is a ruthless king who controls a powerful kingdom. 
But it's not long before the people turn against him and begin to revolt. 
And if didn’t take too much time before his best friend and favorite courtesan's new favorite phrase is: “kill me.”
At least there’s nothing greater than being king.





	1. How Do You Like the Taste of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> There are no warnings in the first chapter. 
> 
> But afterwards things will begin to get violent. There will be war, violence, death, rape and other things that may trigger you.
> 
> READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> This will be a short story and it will have random updates.
> 
> Happy Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had decided to go back and edit/ fix everything up before posting the last chapter because I knew as soon as I did I wouldn’t want to look at this story for another 50 years. 
> 
> I always had mixed feelings about this chapter. The tone is so different from the rest of the story and half the time it feels like pointless exposition. Like maybe I should have just thrown it straight into the battle idk. I’m not sure why it ended up being the longest chapter, like god damn. I remember staying up all night and going to school without having slept in the past 36 hours. I was a wreck. Oh well.

Small hands clutched a bow delicately. A look of terror settles on a usually neutral face. An air of calm fails to surface as an abandoned violin lays on the floor.  


There's ink covering sheets of paper. Spilling out, the black liquid pools on the pages, and drips into a slow puddle on the marble floor. The soft drips are rhythmic in a quiet, unannounced manner. It seeps into the scattered papers and stains everything black. Blending the lines and music notes into something unrecognizable and worthless.  


Outside, the stars are melting into the remains of the night as daylight begins to surface. Threatening to disappear without a trace, but planning to return soon after they’re gone. Like an unspoken promise.  


The small boy would like to follow the stars, as he currently avoids eye contact with the burly man in front of him, who stood with his arms crossed and his mouth twisted into his signature disapproving frown. Akaashi could feel the lecture brewing in the air.  


"You and your forsaken violin, Keiji. How do you ever suspect to take my place as king, if you keep fiddling with that silly thing! Stop filling your head with outlandish dreams of becoming a musician. Do I make myself clear?" Akaashi's father pierces him with an unsettling gaze. His being radiated the power that came with years of practice and a place on his lavish throne.  


"Yes sir," the boy replied meekly. He had no place to argue and tried to withhold a longing look to his prized instrument. He had snuck it away from the kingdom’s orchestra. The golden-brown paint glistened and the strings were tuned exactly right. His hands were already yearning to hold his violin again. He placed that feeling deep inside and turned off his want. It was unbecoming of a prince to put his own desires before his duty. Even at the age of 13, Akaashi has had that ideal brandished into his head. Which is why he was being disgraceful by playing something that had no value to him becoming king. A wasted effort his father cried.  


"Good. I will let you off this once, but if I see you playing this violin again, there will be consequences. Not get off with you, we have important guests to attend to at noon and I can't have you acting unruly before they get here." His father shoots him a withering glance. It soon mellows into a tired frown. He means no malice to his only son, but the crown holds an unbearable weight. His son must be prepared for everything. Trying to reassure the young prince, he manages a slight smile and ruffles his hair. "They are bringing a son with them, I'm sure you two will have plenty of opportunities to interact. Please, take in account that he is the prince of a powerful empire as well. So, it is for the best if you two get along well."  


"I will be on my best behavior," Akaashi assures him.  


"I'm sure you will. You already show great intelligence and the maturity to hold steady over our lands. Even despite this little incident.” His father gives him a meaningful stare, “You will be a great heir to Rheam one day, make me proud son." With one last tired smile, the king sets off with Akaashi's stolen violin in tow.  


Akaashi heaves a sigh of relief. He's more than a little bit bitter at the loss of his musical instrument, but he's glad for such a mellow scolding. He places the violin bow next to the ruined music sheets and starts planning how to find his next violin. His slender fingers already missing the pull and vibrations of the strings as they sung a daunting song.  


Daybreak has long since occurred and his father's warning of the guests’ arrival left little interest to Akaashi. Even at the news of a boy his age gave no headway to excitement. Every guest he has ever met, his age or not, has held an air of superior importance. They gave off stiff and uncomfortable greetings and only gave off words fitting of royalty. Meaning they sounded far more robotic than human at any given time.  


Of course, Akaashi had exchanged his own greetings in the same tone and manner, so he doubted he could hold them accountable. Being royalty wasn’t nearly as much fun as the maids liked to think it was. It was mostly drawn out meetings and trying to come up with innovating solutions for keeping the people in line. A taxing job, that came with wealth and riches, yes, but you’re never without a sword over your head and the peculiar suspicion that your servants might try to poison you.  


Several hours before noon, his personal servant had appeared to help him get ready. A boy his age, Sugawara Koushi, who came attached with doe sized brown eyes and a mole crinkling under them. He was orphaned on the kingdom’s doorsteps, and like most orphans, grew up to become a servant for the palace.  


The boys had their first faithful encounter when Akaashi was only Seven. A servant girl had attempted to give Akaashi a ‘love potion,’ which secret ingredients consisted of: squeezed oranges, a drop of honey, and a lock of her hair.  


Akaashi had looked at the drink flabbergasted, unsure of how he was supposed to handle this girl’s hopeful expression and her hairy beverage. The stray strand had simply floated awkwardly on top of the liquid and he had felt his stomach twist in repugnance. Akaashi hated to be rude but there was only so much he could put up with, and last time he checked this was not in the job description.  


Right when he was about to give this girl and her supposed witchcraft the boot, a boy a bit older than him rushed to tell the girl that she was needed elsewhere. Successfully removing the drink from her hand as she rushed away to fill her duties. The boy had then quickly dumped the liquid into a plant lining the halls and gave a polite bow and a kind smile before trailing after the strange servant girl.  


This incident would occur serval more times before Akaashi would decide to keep Sugawara around permanently, out of his own safety.  


Even though Akaashi had originally chosen the boy to be his personal servant to escape the girl’s further attempts on his life with homemade potions. He quickly became attached to Sugawara, with all his unwavering kindness and fierce protectiveness. He truly was a sweetheart, giving what little he had to anyone who asked.  


"Good afternoon, prince Akaashi," Sugawara grinned good naturedly. Asking without saying for Akaashi's hand, as he gently lead them to the hulking wardrobe in his bedroom.  


"Good afternoon to you as well, Sugawara-san." He stands by, patiently waiting for Sugawara to emerge with today's clothing. Akaashi was perfectly capable of choosing his own outfit, but this was something that Sugawara has always assisted upon doing. He took glee in being behind every carefully chosen outfit the prince was adorned with each day.  


"Formal as always I see, you'll never take to calling me Suga, huh?" Sugawara questioned him peacefully, something he did privately between just the two of them. Akaashi took solace in the brief moments of his day where his conversations weren't so carefully dictated.  


"I don't think you're in an acceptable position to speak, "Mr. Prince Akaashi," he teases.  


"It's only fitting to address the prince accordingly." Suga atones in a practiced way as he corrects his posture and suddenly lowers his eyes to the floor. A perfect picture of what he's been taught to be, since being abandoned to face the castle's regulations. Nonetheless, Suga had a knowing smile tugging on his lips as his hands fidgeted on a shirt he had set aside for today. Pulling, fretting, and smoothing nonexistence wrinkles before gingerly placing it on Akaashi's large bed.  


"Hmm... you seem restless today. Is something the matter?" Akaashi eyes his moments carefully, contemplating his companion and waiting for his next move. Observing and taking notes on what should be his next course of action, just like a prince should.  


"Oh, well… it’s just that there has been some gossip going around that there will be a boy your age present with the royal couple visiting later. Is it true?"  


"Yes, it's true. May I ask why that news excites you so much?"  


"Nothing major majesty, it's just,” Sugawara struggles for the exact words he wants to use before continuing, “you never really get to spend time with people your age. So, I think this will be a great opportunity, my prince," He grinned enthusiastically.  


"What do you mean? I'm around you every day, am I not," Akaashi questions. Maybe Sugawara had him by a year or two, but that was not such a stark difference, was it?  


"Well yes, but I meant someone royal! Just think, he'll know all about the same boring proper manner, wear a book on your head things too!"  


"No one wears a book on their head, Sugawara-san." He replies, looking amused. Allowing Sugawara to help him put on an expensive and finally tailored silk shirt. The white color matched well with the navy-blue jacket that went over it. “If I recall right, you’re just as likely to slip into the same boring manners if called upon.”  


"That doesn’t even come close to how you’re expected to act,” Sugawara huffs. "With the way all of you stand up so straight, it really seems like something you'd have to beat into someone." Suga lets out a small laugh as he assists Akaashi into his slacks and slips on thick white socks and finely polished black dress shoes onto his feet. Fretting over the smallest imperfections that might of well have been invisible to the human eye.  


"Maybe if he turns out not to be a bore, I'll introduce you," Akaashi remarks honestly.  


Sugawara freezes and looks at him like he's seen the spirit of a dead saint. "You must be joking, I couldn't possibly intrude like that. Now come along, I'm sure Hinata would like an attempt at taming your hair before their arrival."  


"I have no idea why'd you think that would be a good idea, he can't even tame his own hair."  


Hinata was a kitchen servant. He had recently undergone a sudden faze of wanting to comb and style anyone's hair, when they granted him permission. Turning serval female servant's hair into milkmaid braids and complex buns.  


Despite his own heap of unruly carrot colored curls, he was unexpectedly talented with all things hair related. The skill most likely stems from years of taking care of his little sister.  


"Come along, now. It's only a matter of time before your guests will arrive."  


***  


A few hours later and some futile attempts on Hinata's end, Akaashi stands waiting by the palace's entrance, with mostly tamed hair.  


There's a total of three minutes till two o’clock hits and his parents already have their practiced smiles out and waiting. Their poise perfect, but stiff looking. Suga's earlier book comment surfaced in his mind and he tried to stifle his laugh, as wells as avoid his mother's warning glare as he moves to copy them.  


Exactly on time, the guests have arrived.  


All attention goes to a slim but strong looking middle-aged man with a grin too large to be proper. He has a sack slung over one shoulder and a cheerful aura. A scruffy beard was on his chin and a gold piercing on only one ear. Akaashi could feel excitement building, the hopes for something interesting were rising quickly.  


His wife came into view, one purposeful step behind her husband. Dark hair, and bright eyes placed in a heart shaped face did a wide sweep of the castle as she looked about with genuine interest. Her small frame was showcased into a tight dress that shaped her body into an hourglass figure. A locket swung around her neck as she walked and her mouth unconsciously seemed to count her steps.  


Behind them all was a boy with the most interesting hair that Akaashi has ever laid eyes on. It was an unusual silver color that faded into a dark grey color. Yet, the most interesting part was how it swooped into two little horn like shapes on his head. The rest of the boy was just as peculiar, with his golden eyes and constant body movements. The boy reminded him strikingly of something from one of his many books.  


Seconds tipped by since the boy caught his attention, until it hit him all too suddenly. "Horned owl," Akaashi's mind finally supplied. Relieved to finally place where the familiarity was due, he had failed to realize that he had spoken out loud. Not until he saw how his parents had stiffened to the point that they could pass as one of the statues in the courtyard. His face began to heat up as he looked toward the ground in embarrassment. Painfully aware of how horrible of a greeting that must have been. His eyes shot up when he heard laughter instead of the initial disgust he was expecting.  


"Yeah! That's exactly what I was going for, you're like the first person to guess right," the boy chirped back at him excitedly. Instantly stepping away from his parents to introduce himself. "I'm Bokuto Kotaro, the prince of Fukurodani."  


"Nice to meet you, Bokuto-san. I'm Akaashi Keiji, prince of Rheam." He bows politely and he can practically feel his parents sigh in relief. Thankful that their introduction had managed to not end in a catastrophic mess.  


Briefly after their parents begun their introductions, Akaashi’s parents wasted no time in dragging the royal pair into a discussion of a possible alliance.  


The two boys quickly tired of their parent’s conversation and let their dull droning be nothing more than background noise.  


"I can tell that we're going to be the best of friends," Bokuto chides earnestly. His grin wide and open, just asking to be shut down, but Akaashi doesn't have the heart to shoot him down too badly.  


"We just met each other, how could you possibly know that?" Akaashi watched his response carefully, waiting for him to get upset and huffy. Nothing of that sort happened, the boy's cheerful disposition refuses to disappear as he continues to beam his blinding smile. He was constantly shifting his feet, almost wobbling like a penguin at this point.  


"It doesn't matter, really. You're so pretty, I know for a fact we're going to get along great."  


For the second time, Akaashi feels embarrassment well up inside him. He pushes through and refuses to break eye contact from the strange golden eyes. They barely hear Bokuto's mother scolding his improper use of the word ‘pretty’ for a boy. "Is that all you like about me?"  


"Of course not. I don't know you that well but I can already tell you're observant. You, like, watch people and take in all the important details. That's cool," he smiles sincerely.  


His parents were already trying to lead away the royal Fukurodani family into the meeting room. In the meantime, they shoo the boys away to occupy themselves.  


Bokuto looked immensely grateful. Akaashi could tell that he was not built to stay in one spot for too long.  


"So, what do you like to do for fun around here?" Bokuto looked at him expectantly.  


"I don't suppose you're into reading?" Akaashi doesn't mean anything harsh by the statement. Bokuto simply seems too much like a busybody to sit down for long periods of time with a book in his hand.  


For the first time, it was Bokuto's turn to look flustered. "Well, it's not quite like I don't like reading, it's just... well... I mea-"  


"You don't know how to read," Akaashi states bluntly.  


Bokuto's face goes red. "Yes. I mean, I know it seems a little impractical for a prince to not be able to read. But my dad is always telling me that it’s more important to have a strong army and to know how to fight. So, I spend most of my time with the soldiers, you know, learning how to defend myself. My father also said, if worst came to worst, I could always just marry someone smart." Bokuto sheepishly replied. Picking at invisible strings on his tailored wear.  


"That's unacceptable, Bokuto-san." Akaashi was right in thinking that Bokuto's family was eccentric. How could they not teach the heir to the throne such an important skill like reading? With a gentle hand on Bokuto's sleeve, Akaashi led them to his room, an important mission planning itself out in his head.  


"I've tried to learn it on my own too, you know, but it just looks like a bunch of squiggles," he defends himself. Not resisting Akaashi's light tugging, just accepting wherever he led them.  


Akaashi said nothing as he searched high and low on his large library of books lining his walls, top to ceiling.  


"What are you searching for," Bokuto questions him. Propping himself haphazardly across Akaashi's bed as he watches the boy hunt for something on the tall shelves.  


"Shouldn't you ask before draping yourself across one's bed?"  


"Shouldn't you address someone with a hello and not a 'horned owl’?"  


"Fair enough." Akaashi continued to route for the book as a hidden smile threatened to appear soon. He almost screamed with joy when he found what he was looking for. How bizarre of him to have such rash and sudden urges to suddenly break his usually carefully placed composure. What was this boy doing to him?  


Akaashi gracefully perched himself besides the boy who laid in an awkward starfish position. The boy shot him a sheepish grin as he slowly retracted his limbs just a bit to allow Akaashi enough room to scoot over.  


"What do you have there?"  


"Well, Bokuto-san, this is a book and this is a pencil." He held each said object up for his viewing. His face completely deadpan.  


Bokuto barely detects the sarcasm. "Yes, but I meant what of it?" His eyebrows rose curiously as the boy opened it to the front page.  


"Well, the first thing you ought to do is learn your letters. Without them, words will forever just be a jumble of squiggles. So, I found one of the old tracers I had when I was younger," Akaashi explains.  


"Why would you keep this thing?"  


"Who knows? Maybe I knew that I'd need it one day."  


"Are you saying it was fate, Akaashi?" Bokuto looked up at with an unreasonable amount of glee.  


"No, I'm saying that my subconscious probably knew that'd I run into an idiot prince that can’t even read."  


"Awe, you don't mean that."  


"Hmm."  


"Akaashi!"  


Akaashi laughs and slowly begins guiding Bokuto over each letter. Letting him get use to the tracing, as he sounds out the corresponding sound with each letter.  


Akaashi smiled gently as the golden eyed boy worked hard at deciphering the characters. A ghost of a smile implanted itself on his lips and an unrivaled happiness had embodied into his soul.  


***  


Many hours of tracing letters later, the boys find themselves seated across from their parents who stared at them with expectant faces.  


"How did today go boys?" His mother asked with an unusual amount of kindness. Akaashi shivered in discomfort.  


The boys shared a look and with an unspoken agreement, they decided to keep the learning how to read and write thing a secret. Their secret.  


Instead, Bokuto made up an approved tale of how they had explored the castle. His eyes shun as he told an adventurous tale with such vigor.  


Akaashi felt worry embezzle into his chest, as he hadn't really considered what Bokuto had wanted to do. Forcing him to learn how to read and write, despite his parent's deeming it unnecessary. He felt a small bit of reassurance when Bokuto turned to him with a wide grin and gave him what attempted to be a sly wink, but instead came across as if he was wincing in pain.  


He whispered in his ear, "Our adventure was just as fun, even minus the vengeful servants with pitchforks I swore I saw."  


"Today has just been wonderful, don't you agree Matsuo?" His mother turned to his father, giving her signature plastic smile. Ready to seal the deal the Fukurodani family came for.  


"Yes, how marvelous that our children get along so well together." His parents seemed so fake, Akaashi felt himself cringe.  


"We would love to see more of your kingdom," Bokuto's mom said with a sweet smile across her face. She gives a meaningful look to her husband.  


"Oh, yes well, we have come to a conclusion of sorts. We both agree it would be beneficial for us to form an alliance together," Bokuto's father says. Not realizing that he was the reason behind his parents’ sudden rush of unbridled joy. If an alliance with the powerful and illusive Fukurodani kingdom is made, by extend, the Rheam kingdom will greatly be empowered.  


Bokuto was practically bouncing in excitement. For him, this meant frequent meetings between the two neighboring empires. He seized Akaashi's hand and started tracing some of the letters he learned into his skin. A content feeling washed over them as their parents’ formal dinner conversation wore on for the rest of the evening.  


***  


Five hours after the stars appeared, Akaashi heard a knock on his door.  


"Come in," Akaashi called out, expecting Sugawara to arrive for his nightly bath. Instead, entered Bokuto with a Cheshire grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes.  


"Hello, neighbor,” Bokuto greets as he trails closer to where Akaashi is laid out on the bed.  


"Hello, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi makes no move to get out of bed and instead, just stares up at Bokuto expectedly.  


"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?" Bokuto inquired, leaning directly over him with a slight bit of impatience biting into his brow.  


"You will tell me anyway, won't you?"  


"Fair enough." Akaashi snorts and Bokuto beams. "I have knocked upon your door because we have some unfinished business to attend to today before my unfortunate departure."  


"Unfortunate to whom?"  


"Quiet your stinging remarks for just one second Akaashi, and let me finish. We need to go to the training room."  


"Should I ask why?"  


"No, you shouldn't!" He grips hold of Akaashi's hands and waits for him to lead the way.  


Akaashi quietly gets up and takes him down a twisting labyrinth of corridors and away from the station guards. Not stopping until they're standing in front of the combat room.  


"This is it," Akaashi whispers.  


"Okay, let's go in already." He pulls the door opened with one hand and drags Akaashi in with the other.  


In the large room lies an assortment of weapons and armor, as well as basic training equipment.  


Bokuto is immediately drawn to a sword hanging on the wall. It's beautifully crafted with a golden handle and enchanting, multi-colored jewels embezzled into it. The long blade glistened at him beckoningly, but, with all the polish and shine, the sword seemed more like a decoration than a weapon. Akaashi's attention favored the little practice wooden swords hanging on the far-left corner.  


He takes one and tosses the other to Bokuto. He sets his feet in a practiced stance and watches Bokuto carefully.  


Meanwhile, Bokuto takes the sword with glee. His feet move into a light stance, as his arms shift so that the weapon is slightly angled away from his body.  


"En-garde!" Bokuto shouts and immediately dives in for a final blow.  


Akaashi narrowly dodges it and turns to Bokuto with a pointed glare, annoyed over the abrupt start that gave him an unfair advantage.  


Bokuto kept going though, swinging the sword around easily and Akaashi was left trying to defend each miraculous shot. He didn't have enough time to even go for his own blow. It wasn't long before Akaashi was overpowered and left to land on his bum with a soft thump. A wooden sword placed at his throat and a gloating Bokuto placed behind it.  


Bokuto offered him a hand up, and Akaashi took it hesitantly. Still slightly dazed by his overcoming lost.  


"How did you get so good at sword fighting, Bokuto-san?"  


"Lots and lots of practice. That practice is made easier when you're doing it so you can protect everything important to you." Bokuto looked at the wooden sword with a fondness as he took practice swings in the air.  


"That sounds nice, Bokuto-san." And he meant it. The idea of training so hard for something so noble was endearing to say the very least.  


Bokuto ever so full of surprises continued, "I'm going to protect you too, Akaashi."  


"Huh? Why me?" Akaashi was startled at his surprising sentiment. Not even a full day has passed since their introduction and this boy was promising to protect him. A warm sensation filled his stomach.  


"I want you to become really important to me, and I always get what I want," he answered with a cheeky grin. His otherwise endearing statement was marked with arrogance.  


This boy never seems to stop surprising Akaashi, and he doesn't think he'd mind too much if he became important to him.  


"We should probably get going soon. Sugawara-san is probably wondering where I am."  


"Sugawara?"  


"Come along, I promised I'd introduce you two."  


When the two arrived inside Akaashi's room, they were nearly tackled to the ground by an overzealous Suga. The poor boy looked as if he had gone half mad in the brief time Akaashi was gone.  


"Where were you? I've been worried sick! You can't just disappear without at least leaving me a letter, what if something bad had happened to you? I would have never been able to forgive myself." Sugawara grasped Akaashi by his shoulders and shook him gently.  


"Woah, I've never see a mother bear up close before, Akaashi." Bokuto's eyes widened in amazement as he watched the boy throw Akaashi behind his back and eye the stranger distrustfully.  


"Who are you supposed to be?" Suga's eyes narrowed. Unhappy with whoever kept his prince up so late, doing God knows what. He even missed bath time!  


"Sugawara-san, this is Bokuto-san, our guest." Akaashi stepped out from behind Sugawara, just in time to see his eyes round out in complete horror.  


"Prince Bokuto! My apologies, I meant no disrespect." He quickly dipped into a messy bow and Bokuto just smiled at the train wreck, that was currently Sugawara Koushi.  


Bokuto raised his hands in surrender, "No no. You had every right to be so defensive. I had seized your cub from right under your nose, any mother bear would have been sent into a rampage."  


"Prince Bokuto?"  


"Yes?"  


"Please stop comparing me to a bear."  


"My apologies."  


"So, how long will you be staying," Sugawara chirps. Clapping his hands together, obviously eager to sweep their earlier mishap under a rug and pretend it never happened.  


"We leave after breakfast; our people are holding a celebration in a few days and we can't afford to miss it."  


"So soon? You've barely seen anything of importance, much less of what our entire kingdom has to offer." Sugawara frowns, unhappy to see someone come and go so fast.  


"It seems like our kingdoms will be forming an alliance soon, so this won’t be my last visit. Maybe Akaashi could come and visit me?"  


"He certainly could," Suga answered, delighted. "It's been a while since my prince has been out of this castle, it'd be good for him."  


"You know I can answer for myself, right?" Akaashi had watched the exchange with an amused smile.  


"Of course, I know that.” Sugawara wags a finger at him and sniffs indignantly,” That doesn't mean I'm going to stop doing it."  


"So, since I'm leaving in the morning, is there anything I must see before my departure?"  


Sugawara was silent for a minute, before lighting up like a small sun. "You must see Akaashi play the violin, he's so talented!"  


"Shh, Sugawara-san, you know that's against the rules," Akaashi chides him lightly.  


"Oh, what isn't?"  


"I don't even have a violin, my father confiscated it this morning."  


"Well, I guess it's a good thing that you love me, now isn't it." Sugawara disappears from their side for just a second. Fishing under the bed, until he victoriously pulls out a beautiful gleaming violin. "You already have a bow, right?"  


Akaashi takes the violin with great care and picks up the bow that was left abandoned on his desk. Placing the violin to his chin and his hand to an angle. The boy began to furiously tear away at the instrument.  


An enchanting song filled the room with unmatched visions. It gave fertility and life to a still born picture. He invented a fantasy world with each note. The melody gave the white walls color, staining them a hundred different shades at once. The violin was a steady rhythm, a heartbeat. A constant thumping that you depended on to carry your weight of life. The melody was a storm, insistent yet a pattering, soft wave of serenity.  


The song was beautiful, but it felt like it was missing something. Something vital. As soon as Akaashi stopped playing, Bokuto stood up and cheered him on. Suga following soon after, the two of them becoming a two-man ovation. Akaashi gave them a playful bow.  


"Bravo! That was incredible, Prince Akaashi." Sugawara aimed a 'I told you so' smile at Bokuto.  


Bokuto kept standing and observed him carefully. "It's not finished, is it?"  


Akaashi looked taken aback.  


"I've played this song for many servants. You're the first person to ever notice," Akaashi tells him. Both Bokuto and Suga stare at him in shock. "I've never been able to figure out how to finish this one."  


"It remains a mystery?"  


"So, it seems."  


"Will you continue to play it for me till you solve it?"  


"I suppose."  


The rest of the night was spent listening to song that changed slightly each time it was played.  


****  


After breakfast, the royal Fukurodani family set off. In a bag, Bokuto carried a letter tracing book, he promised to practice every day. In return, Akaashi promised to practice his violin every day.  


He hoped to finally get his song right when they see each other again.


	2. It's Bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: war and violence

The alliance between their countries barely held up for three years. 

After the king had grown ill, Fukurodani had cut away ties with all outsiders. Making the kingdom of Fukurodani once more, a mystery. 

Akaashi remembers seeing Bokuto right before their borders locked up. 

Bokuto had been fidgeting and couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. Instead, he moved for Akaashi’s hand and held it firmly in his own. Giving strength or taking it, Akaashi still wasn't sure which one was the case. 

"Here, it's really not much but it has an owl on it and you said I look like an owl and well, you like me, wait, you like me rig-"

"Bokuto-San, you're going to hyperventilate. Deep breaths," Akaashi pleads. Demonstrating until Bokuto follows suit. 

Once Bokuto's breathing began to regulate, he took Akaashi's wrist in his grasp gently. From within his pocket he took out a bracelet. A simple black one with a single charm hanging off it, a grey horned owl, which stared back at them with huge eyes. Their names were engraved into the back of it. Bokuto's messy scripture was evident, but it always made Akaashi's heart swell with warmth to know that he had took headway to Akaashi's teachings and learned to read and write.

Bokuto hooked it around Akaashi's wrist and smiled brighter than the sun behind him. It was blinding, but he couldn’t dare to look away.

"I wanted you to have something that would remind you of me. Well, not just me, but also when there was peace between our people, so, um... Gods I'm really bad at this." Bokuto fiddles with his fingers and earnestly stares up at Akaashi with his golden eyes. He's practically a twin to the owl around Akaashi's wrist. 

"It's lovely Bokuto-san," Akaashi assures him. It really is, he thinks. It's a nice reminder and further engages his hope that this isn't the last time he'll seem him. 

So much uncertainty goes into this parting. They both didn't know if they'd ever see each other again. The world was always changing, who would they be if they came face to face again ?

They have grown close, and saying goodbye is harder than either of them had wanted to admit.

"I guess this is goodbye." Bokuto's lips were quivering and he looked like he was about to go into one of his depressions for a thousand years.

"For now." Akaashi knew he was going to start crying soon if this goodbye dragged on much longer. He stared at their names on his bracelet and gave a deep sigh. "Bokuto-san?"

"hmm?"

"I still haven't finished my song."

Bokuto's face split into a huge grin. "Then I’ll just have to come back when you finish it."

Akaashi nodded in agreement and their promise felt more solid than their parent's treaty ever did. So, when they turned away, their goodbye really did feel like it was only temporary. 

They knew this wouldn't be the last place their paths would cross.

*^*

The tower bell wouldn't stop ringing. The sharp sound clacked harshly, a deadly message that must be heard. 

The towns people ran to safety, locking doors and bolting windows. The sun was not yet all the way in the sky, hidden among trees. The air was heavy with anticipation and drowned their kingdom in a thick panic.

It's a matter of hours before their new enemy was to arrive. 

Akaashi had just had his 20th summer when the declaration of war had arrived to his parents. A white envelope with a black and yellow bird seal, the sign of Fukurodani.

In the letter it told of the death of the King and his queen who went tumbling after. Their son had taken his rightful place on the throne as Fukurodani's King and now wishes to take control of Rheam's water trade that cuts through their kingdom.

They offered no chance for surrender, they wanted this war. Bokuto wanted this war. He wanted this war for some measly stream that his land traded with. Akaashi had dropped the letter in disbelief, thinking it must be a jest. When no one laughed, it was clear just how real it was.

Time really must change someone. How could Bokuto, an eccentric goofball, demand bloodshed for something so trivial? 

His parents began to prepare for war, and Akaashi continues to play his song. It sounds harsh and frantic, but maybe that's how it was supposed to be all along. In the end, it goes unfinished once more.

When the time for battle comes, he lost his formal wear for an outfit of metal. It weighted heavy on his chest and mind.

His mother cried for him not to go. He wasn't sure if it was because he was the only heir or her only son. He kisses her check in solace.

His hands hold a sword. Hands that were made for creating music, elegant and long. Thin. Not yet garnished with blood, the weapon weighs more heavily than the armor.

He turns to face his men. He's no hero and he has no words to give. He gives them a nod, and they head out. A battle plan loosely imprinted in their minds, but war never went as plan. The fear of death and loss was too real, too soon.

It wasn't long till they came face to face with the opposing army. Colors of black and yellow flow into his land. They're not loud or unruly. They come with a purpose and they seem methodically inclined to get it in a precise and precautions way.

They still attacked first, charging straight ahead. A brash meeting of swords against each other and grunts of pain echo in his ears. Akaashi's men were giving it their all, this was a battle to keep everything they've ever worked for. They couldn't chance the unknown of what would happen if a new king took control of their lands. They knew this war was costlier than the water they traded with. 

Akaashi felt his heart shatter when he sees a young man with brown hair crumble to the grown as a sword slides out of his chest. He wonders what his last words were, if they were given to his family or his fellow men. Maybe a curse to his killer. Maybe a quiet prayer to a God that’s eons away. 

Akaashi didn't get much time to dwell on it. A huge man with a long beard came diving for him, eager to kill the prince of this land. 

Akaashi swings at the beast's legs, the body proportions of the man left him unstable on his bottom half. A weakness that sent him toppling over himself. The man hurried to get back up but stilled when he saw the long edged blade held to his throat.

It would be easy, a simple jab and he would have one less man to worry about taking over his home. One less of his men having to say their final words. A quick swing and a decision later, the man is left bleeding from a gash on his leg.

Akaashi is walking back to the battle. Letting fate decide whether this man will live, on whether he bleeds out. Maybe he’ll sees his family again, Akaashi wouldn’t mind. Taking a man's life isn't something he wants to see printed on the inside of his eyelids every time he wakes up in the middle of the night. 

He ignores the man's pleas to just kill him. To save him from humiliation. Pride is a dangerous thing that kills more people than war. It hangs heavy around their necks like a noose created by their minds. Silently there, beckoning them to jump.

Akaashi never kills, he looks for the loose edges. Picking out their knobby elbows and the exact moment they lose their balance on a too large swing. He knocks them swiftly to the ground and lets fate be the God of tonight. 

He doesn't expect his men to do the same, or his enemy to show the same kind of mercy. You learn to expect nothing of something so calloused as war. 

He's not surprised when he's knocked to the ground by someone in black and yellow armor. His teeth were the same colors and Akaashi couldn't find a soul in those murky brown eyes. He gave no words as he held a sword over his stomach, right in the spot where his armor was weakest. Promising a slow death as he slowly sunk the blade through his clothing and began to inch into his skin.

Akaashi saw no memories of his past or a way to escape, he only saw straight in front of him. An ugly man and a blinding sun giving his eyes something to remember. His lips don't move until a scream erupts from them. 

A sword drives through the head of the man. Sliding in till it comes out slightly above his hairline, blood trickling out. Akaashi nearly gags at the sloshing noise the weapon makes when it's ripped from the man's head. He kicks the body away from him and pulls himself up from the ground. His stomach aches, but the sword hadn't cut his skin too deeply. He can still fight for his people.

The owner of the sword steps forward and Akaashi swallows his heart.

"I told them not to touch you, it looks like no one ever listens to me." Bokuto's smile is wide and his hair is flattened with sweat and dried blood. He stretches his arms out as if he's expecting a hug. Like they were still best friends playing sword fighting. As if Bokuto isn't slaughtering his people and threatening his home.

He looks wild, his heart cracked from his father and mother's demise and the feeling of loneliness. Too much pressure doesn't make you a diamond. It makes you the shattered remains of what you used to be.

"Oh, come on Akaashi! Don't act like you don't remember me. It hasn't been that long." Bokuto is moving closer and Akaashi eyes him carefully. Most of Bokuto’s clothes are armor, but bits of cloth stick out from around his waist. They're entirely soaked in blood. Bokuto staggers forward towards him and lands harshly.

"Bokuto-san are you hurt?" His eyes widen in slight panic. Akaashi doesn't disregard the battle behind him, but pushes it aside to tend to Bokuto. A potential wolf in sheep clothing, but also an oversized boy in a king’s robe. He moves the cloth aside and slides the armor up without taking it fully off. Only a small, insignificant cut lays beneath it. Nothing so major that would cause so much blood. The blood of the cloth stains Akaashi's fingers and his head feels fuzzy.

"Oh, that. I'll be fine, I've experience much worst. Most of that blood isn't mine. You know, I'm still waiting on that hug." He moves to wrap his arms around him.

Akaashi pulls back hastily, hand over his sword. Who is this person? This person declaring war and wearing people's blood without remorse. He's not Bokuto. Not the golden eyed boy who was so happy go lucky but always said the right thing when it mattered. He's not the boy who asked him to play his song for him on his violin. 

"Why?" It's a too typical question but one that needed to be said. "Why are you here Bokuto-san? Why are you declaring war on my people?" 

"How, what, where, when and why? That's what you want to get into? You haven't even said hello." Bokuto is still grinning and it makes Akaashi grip his sword tighter.

"Hello, Bokuto-san." 

"Hello again, Akaashi! Oh my, what lovely weather we're having, wouldn't you agree?" Bokuto is getting closer once more and Akaashi's knuckles are white. 

"Indeed," he grinds out tightly from clenched teeth. Bokuto is close enough to hear his shallow breathing.

"Do you really need me to tell you why? It's not because of some river." Bokuto's eyes bore into him. As if trying to telepathically tell him what he should already know. He was close enough to touch Akaashi's hand if he stretched his arm out.

"Maybe I wouldn't need you to if you didn't feel like a stranger right now. No, that’s not right, you're more of a monster." Bokuto's eyes shun distantly with hurt, he was close enough to count Akaashi's eyelashes.

"It's because you're pretty." He gives a shit eating grin to go with his lie.

"No one starts a war because someone is pretty."

"Not true. Haven't you ever heard of the Trojan war? You've read to me the story of Helen. A beautiful demigod birthed from a stupid mortal and Zeus in a swan form. Her beauty was reason enough for tremendous bloodshed. You of all people should know that." Bokuto reaches his hand out and grabs Akaashi's hand, the one without a sword.

"Troy was burned to ashes, is that your plan? To burn everything I love? For what?" Akaashi doesn't move to attack. His hand is still covered in blood, and it rubs off on Bokuto's already stained fingers.

"I'm here to hear your song, the one you'll play only for me." Bokuto's eyes flash with something burning and he grips Akaashi's hand mean. He pulls off the arm plate that covers him down to his wrist and scavenges for something underneath it. "Where is it," he growls. His hands suddenly moving to grip his throat. "Why isn't my bracelet around your fucking wrist, Akaashi."

Akaashi is surprised by the revelation, he's never taken that bracelet off. He must have lost it when he was fighting. Under any other circumstances, he would have felt panicked, searching in haste to find the object his best friend had gifted him. Now all he can feel is relief from the absence of the weight on his wrist and panic from the hand squeezing around his neck.

"Bo-boku-to.. I-I ca-n't bre-a-the," He chokes out. Gasping for air as his head goes light.

Bokuto lets go and Akaashi immediately swings his sword. Completely missing, making his footsteps too long and awkward, his body was still woozy from lack of air.

"Are we really doing this Akaashi? I'm still a better fighter than you, that hasn't changed. Are you even thinking right now? You're the brains in this relationship, what are you doing?" He dodges Akaashi's movements so easily. He doesn't even bother to draw his sword. Leading Akaashi around and moving easily from the boy's half-hearted swings. 

"You didn't even give us a chance for surrender. If you wanted me, you could have asked." Akaashi's eyes were stinging with tears. "Why did you want so many people to die?"

Bokuto considers this for a moment and shakes his head. "I knew you would surrender, you'd never allow people to die or suffer in your place. Too dainty and pure to ever take a soul. Even now, you stand before the cause of your people's suffering and you won't kill me. At this rate, you will never finish your song. That's a song of insanity and you're a million years from touching it."

"You did this for a song?" Akaashi was shaking now and he aimed his sword to swing, but his arms felt too stiff. His body was frozen with disbelief.

"You still don't get it? I did this for you! You became mine as soon as you promised to play that song for me and you'll be mine again as soon as I finish killing everyone I need to for this war." 

"I won't let you kill anyone else. I'll stop you," Akaashi threatens. 

"Then what are you waiting for?" A coy grin awaits Akaashi as he spreads his arms wide.

Akaashi sees only tears as he charges forward with his sword held high. Fingers still stained with blood and his heart stained with a bitter pain. Bokuto moves out of the way and sends one calculated and powerful punch to his head. Knocking Akaashi to the ground and taking his consciousness with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N brah… what a sucky ass ending. When in doubt, knock that bitch out.
> 
> Please don't quote me on that.


	3. You Say That Every Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of rape, and violence.

In all the time Akaashi has spent in Bokuto's kingdom, he's been dressed only in chains.  


Akaashi was a spoil of war, or maybe, the war's objective. It didn't matter really; his men were dead and his kingdom was overtaken.  


In only a matter of hours after beings forced into this kingdom, he was stripped completely of his pride. The room still held remnants of his screams and pleas for help that never made it out of the confines of the vast walls. They were swallowed and ignored. The blood had stained his bedsheets instead of his hands this time. Salvation seemed far gone as Akaashi ran his fingernails over every place he touched. Trying in vain to erase memories of his fingerprints. Pale skin disfigured with angry red marks, as if he was an angry child’s canvas.  


Bokuto had bound his hands together for days as punishment. Akaashi's mind still cut him like a razor in its place. Degrading himself for everything he could and couldn't have done. Struggling to deal with the aching sensation that never left. Like a bruise that never faded, the pain just dulled.  


From the window of a grand room he had watched his people shuffle in. Still marked with the disgrace of last night's endeavors and tears blistering his face in puffy blotches. He saw them with their hands locked together as they moved forward. Soldiers shouting and harassing people. They shot those who resisted or lagged too far behind. Children were crying and stuck as close as possible to their mothers. Newly made widows and orphans were trying to keep moving just to survive, even if it wasn’t for much longer. A look of devastation was mirrored on their faces. They avoided each other’s gazes, they couldn't bear to see the corpses they've become in the reflections of each other’s eyes.  


All he could ever do was watch from the wretched window. His ankle chained to the column of his bed, unable to even cross half of the room. He could barely muster the will to be thankful that he wasn't forced to lay on his back constantly. Appreciation was hard to find when you're losing your will to search for anything.  


He wasn't sure how many days have passed since his fight with Bokuto. Akaashi was always forgetting how many sunsets and sunrises he has seen from the confines of the room. They escaped his memory as he tried to erase the sins that happened here. Making time seem insignificant and cruel in its eternity.  


He wanted a reprieve from this dark room, lit only by a candle too far out of reach. He would set something alight if he could reach it, maybe himself.  


The walls reached out forever and were painted a deep red, the floors marble and cold beneath his uncovered feet. There was a large four poster bed that took up a good portion of the room. It was beautiful and the columns that surrounded were a chestnut brown and etched with a complicated design. A canopy draped itself around the frame. When it was pulled together, Akaashi was draped in darkness and it blinded him. The sheets were silk, and rubbed wrongly against his skin. The pillows were stuffed with feathers, but he still couldn't sleep on them. A bed made for a king, gifted to a whore.  


A painting of someone now dead was hung on the wall and random furniture was placed tastefully around the room. The whole room dripping with proof of Fukurodani's wealth.  


Most nights, Akaashi slept on the floor. Denouncing the king's gifts every chance he gets. He doesn't care that other courtesans from the kingdom's past have never received something so luxurious. He'd take their tiny servant quarters and rickety bed if it allowed him the freedom to cross the room and bathe himself. He would finally be away from the smell of oils and withered roses. The scent always leaves him nauseated.  


When he sleeps, he's haunted by the image of his people dying. Their bodies cover the ground around him and his hands are forever stained with their blood. They don't have faces nor names, they’re just the bodies of those he couldn't save.  


He stands in the middle of them. His violin placed beneath his chin and his blood-stained fingers move his bow back and forth. It's a song he's never heard before, and he plays it repeatedly for his dead audience. The melody is warped and twisted as it colors the horizon black. Not the black of night, it's the black of nothingness. As if the world was slowly ending, taking all its color with it, and he's sending it off with this torturous song.  


When he finally finishes, Bokuto appears from nowhere. A knowing smile on an otherwise unreadable face. He's clapping and hands him a single rose. It pricks his fingers as soon as he touches it and slowly begins to wither up before dying. The blood from the cut mixes with the drying blackened blood of his people. He wipes his hands on the side of Bokuto's face and kisses him bitterly. Together they fade away, and Akaashi is awoken.  


When he’s not curled up on the floor trying to sleep, He’s standing by a window that reaches the floor and ceiling, adorned by cream colored curtains. He would stand in front of it for hours, counting the stars until his mind burned. The numbers growing higher and higher until he exhausts himself, or he hears the door open.  


When the door is opened, Akaashi doesn't turn to face it. He never liked to face the monster dead on when it entered.  


Clanking footsteps of metal against the marble floor follow him as he crosses to where Akaashi stood in front of the window. He had only been able to count 1,749 stars today before he came for him, a pity.  


"Did you miss me?" Bokuto encircled Akaashi's body with his strong arms that grip him like a vice. He breathes into Akaashi's ear, who shivers in response.  


"Hello Bokuto-san." He doesn't say more, his mouth too dry and his heart too empty. He knows what's to come and talking only makes it worst.  


"Keiji," he breathes. Giving off a smoldering disposition, as he wraps him in a world with chains and locks that have missing keys. He traps him in this isolated and dissipating wasteland for the sake of what he calls 'love.'  


The way he says his name makes Akaashi's skin crawl. It hurts, like acid dripping from the man's tongue, and onto his pale cheek. It no longer felt like his name anymore. Soiled and tarnished, this man has taken so much from him.  


"Please, leave me my name. Don't say it, I won't get another," Akaashi begs.  


His pleas fall on deaf ears as his tears were swallowed and his name was trifled. Akaashi feels his mind drift somewhere this man can't follow as he feels a hot mouth pressed against his.  


Bokuto presses his mouth against every crevice of Akaashi's face. Finding a perch beneath his eye as he sucks away the salty tears threating to drown him. He pulls away and shakes Akaashi awake. Not letting him ignore what he does, always wanting his full attention. He's forever an overgrown child.  


"There's no point in trying to disappear on me. Whether you want to or not, I'll always make it to where you can think only of me. Besides, I have something to show you today. Something you wouldn't want to miss." He pulls Akaashi back into his arms and carries him to the bed. Taking the boy's foot and unlocking it from a key within the folds of his armor.  


He pulls Akaashi up and stuffs the boy into an elegant robe he must have brought with him. It was golden and covered with flowers, ending mid-thigh.  


Akaashi quickly wrapped it around himself, it's been awhile since he's had something to cover himself with besides the bruises lining his torso.  


Bokuto captured his hand and quickly lead him out of the room without letting the boy recuperate from the sudden transition of a room he's spent days, maybe weeks in. His legs wobbled like a newborn deer and he was suddenly overtaken by the brightness of the halls.  


Bokuto led him down the labyrinth of unmemorable doors until they were standing behind a door leading out to a balcony. When it was pushed oven, a frigid wind brushed against Akaashi's scantily clad skin. He heard the yells and cheers of the townspeople as they all gathered around the courtyard the balcony overlooked.  


"What's the meaning of this?" Fear was laced in Akaashi's voice as he watched the people part to make room in the middle of the courtyard. Loudly chanting as if they were expecting the arrival of something. The people only appeared like this at Akaashi's kingdom when they were rioting or someone was being executed. An awful feeling twisted into an intangible knot in his stomach.  


Bokuto sent him a jaded smile as he stood before the crowd. Trumpets sounded his arrival and the people's disorienting chatter subsided as they waited for him to speak. Akaashi gripped the railing of the balcony until his knuckles turned white.  


"People of Fukurodani, I have called you here to discuss the recent victory against the kingdom of Rheam." Bokuto pauses to let the crowd scream in approval. "With this victory, we have gained access to not only the waterway that runs through it, but the kingdom as a whole." Bokuto's voice is deep and commanding as he addresses the people he rules over. A powerful presence that couldn't be ignored, where had this come from?  


"I have with me the former prince of Rheam, Keiji Akaashi. He now warms my bedside as my favorite courtesan." Bokuto sends him a smile as if that was meant as praise. Akaashi closes in on himself as he hears the town people jeer at him. Saying ugly things about him and finding joy at the prospect of bringing a prince of a once powerful kingdom, to the position of a bed slave.  


"Of course, that's not the reason we're here today. Tonight, is the marking of the beheading of the former king and queen of Rheam. " The crowd was uncontrollable at this point. Blood thirsty monsters they had become. Akaashi had already used up his tears for tonight. He tried to count stars but his eyes wouldn't leave the sight below him.  


His parents were ushered in, chained and followed closely by serval guards. His father was a mess and Akaashi heard him pleading for everyone to end this nonsense. His mother kept her eyes straight ahead and her lips set in a hard line. They were led like sheep, to two guillotines sat next to each other. The guards wasted no time in placing their necks beneath the razor that was meant to end their lives.  


"Matsuo Akaashi and Nagiesa Akaashi will be executed for going against this kingdom. Do you have any final words you would like to give?" Akaashi almost snarled at that insult, his parents have committed no crime against them. They had sent war upon them on their own accords.  


His parents froze at the sight of Akaashi. His dad looked at him quizzically, but finally quit his previous blubbering and stared daggers through the shatters of Akaashi's draining resolve. "Keiji, do what is best for what is left of our kingdom." The executioner lets the blade drop and Akaashi's father's head rolls onto the square. The people were in a frenzy. One of the guards picks it up and raises it high for everyone to see. His father’s eyes were still open as they stared blankly at the crowd.  


Akaashi felt bile creep up in his throat. The tears he thought were used up appeared and he fought to keep the both of it at bay. This wasn't finished yet. He locks eyes with his mother who had a small smile gracing her lips. Completely composed as she faced her doom, and Akaashi fell apart. What left did she have to fear, she’ll be dead soon. Akaashi's own thoughts disturbed him and he was now struggling to keep from hurling himself off the balcony.  


His mother gave him her last three words. "Keiji, stay alive." The blade came down and her head rolled.  


Nothing could stop him this time from the amount of bile that escaped his lips. It poured out as it burned his throat and tears stabbed his eyes. He cried and screeched until his lungs came apart. Trying so desperately to breathe and forgetting how. There was nothing left of their kingdom and soon there would be nothing left of him. His now deceased parents had wasted their last words. He was beginning to see spots playing on the outer field of his vision.  


Bokuto takes his hands. "Deep breaths Akaashi," he says mockingly and carries the boy back to his room. "You and your bleeding heart will be the cause of your downfall," he murmured.  


Akaashi flinches in response. His heart was pouring out. Akaashi grips his clothes tightly and tries to erase the memories of his deceased parents. It was easier than he'd though it would be, his body slowly stopped struggling and slowly became limp. Letting Bokuto carry him around as if he was little more than an empty sack.  


All Akaashi could think of was the sound the guillotine had made against their necks, and how he could add that to his violin's song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n : Execution is hard core as fuck. Like people were freaking savages about it in the past. It was one of the most exciting past times since cock fighting. 
> 
> Also, crap gets graphic next chapter. You better be prepared because I'm not.


	4. What Tomorrow Brings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, death and rape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do me a favor and take a look at those warnings. 
> 
> I have to admit that this chapter was difficult to write but I hope you enjoy it.

For the past of what seemed like days, he has been left undisturbed. Besides for an occasional servant bring him food, Akaashi has been completely alone. He has been left with nothing to do but think.  


What a dangerous thing thinking is, a necessary evil. After all, without the ability to think, would you still be alive? It's with your thoughts that you organize everything you know. Your opinions and beliefs, the stuff that differentiates you from a sitting rock.  


The very thing that allows Akaashi to stare pointlessly at a flickering flame. Fantasizing about the burn of it against his skin. Corroding him as it filled the air with the fragrance of charred flesh. Letting the small light consume him in a wave of orange and yellow until there is nothing but ashes.  


He prays he doesn't become a phoenix, how he'd hate to finally gather the strength to disappear and then be forced back into the starting place.  


Akaashi never fantasizes about what it would be like to escape. What is left untainted outside these walls? Where ever he goes, Akaashi is no longer a prince, his people are gone and his home was stolen. Some days, Akaashi suspects that he's not much of a man anymore either. Forced to scream scarlet things through clinched teeth.  


If he had been born with wings, Bokuto would have simply ripped them off. Beautiful feathers would be scattered and ugly scars would forever have marred his skin.  


Today he hasn't moved once from the window. His plates of untouched food piled up on a random table and his body began to go rigged.  


He doesn't look up when the door opens and the pattering of feet move to the center of the room. Not until he hears a faint voice he hasn't heard from in a long while.  


"Akaashi?" Sugawara whispers.  


Akaashi is scrambling to stand as he weakly turns to face the man.  


Sugawara moves to embrace him with an unwavering ferocity. Embellishing the boy in a kind warmth that he hasn't felt in so long.  


Akaashi feels tears burn in his eyes and he mouths unfinished words into Sugawara's shoulder. Unable to comprehend what he's doing here and unwilling to let him go.  


Sugawara silently rocks him for a long while. Rubbing slow circles in Akaashi's back as he allows him to come apart in his arms. He waits for Akaashi to pull away when he's ready.  


Akaashi finally steps back and allows a broken smile to meet Sugawara's sad one. A red head appears from behind Sugawara and marched towards Akaashi for his own hug. Akaashi gives into it willingly.  


"Sugawara.... Hinata, you're here." They're words he never thought he'd get to say. They look almost the same, a little thinner maybe, but alive and breathing.  


"Yes, we're here. We’re here for you," Sugawara tells him kindly. His sad smile doesn't leave his face as he looks over Akaashi's body. Taking in how his skin stretches gauntly over his ribs and the fair coloring of his skin is stained with yellow and purple bruises. His cheeks were sunken and his lips were cracked.  


Akaashi followed his eyes and covered his body self-consciously with his arms.  


"You two shouldn't be here, it's not safe."  


For a second they both looked stunned, a protest was forming on Hinata's lips but Sugawara touched his back gently. Asking without saying for his silence.  


"Akaashi... have you been eating?" Sugawara looks at him with great concern. Akaashi says nothing to this. "We're just so glad to see you alive. It's been so long, we weren't sure what to think when we ended up working at the castle. We've looked all over for you, and then we found the kitchen staff and they told us of this rumor of you being here and we had to at least try a-an-... and here you are." Sugawara looked astonished by this. Like he still couldn't completely believe Akaashi was here, despite how tattered he seemed.  


Akaashi's gaze softened. "Here I am," he muttered mournfully. He looked like he wanted to fall into another embrace with the three of them but something was pressing at the back of his head. The reminder that Bokuto would becoming shortly and by all cost they couldn't be here when he arrived.  


"I'm so glad to see you're both okay, but you must go if we wish to keep it this way. Please, you can't be here when he comes."  


"Akaashi, there is no way we can leave without you! Stop being ridiculous, I love you too much to leave you with that maniac. He's not like he was when you were children, he's no longer right in the head. You must leave with us before he comes back. Look! I stole this key from one of the maids that brings you food, just in case this ended up being the right room. It’s supposed to unlock everything in this room." Sugawara keeps stepping towards him, proudly displaying the key that can free Akaashi from the chain to his bed, but Akaashi just keeps stepping back. He can't leave, it's not that simple.  


"The thousand marks of shame lingering on my skin will forever keep me aware of that change. It's why you must leave this instance. I can't protect you from him, please, save yourselves."  


A previously silent Hinata steps forward. He fiddles with his hands as he avoids meeting Akaashi's gaze.  


"Do you even wish to leave?"  


"What do I have to return to? He took everything: my kingdom, my people, and my parents. I'm no longer brave enough to run head first and blindfolded in the world waiting for me outside my window." Akaashi touches the cool glass of the window. The town is locked up and the lit lanterns and stars are the only light reflecting at him.  


"That's not true! The people are revolting, it isn't long before they'll overthrow him. You can take his place," Hinata shrieks in his excitement. He clutches Akaashi's hands as he rocks back and forth on his heels. His eyes gleam with hope.  


"It doesn't work like that. The people want freedom from an oppressive ruler, not a degraded prince from a fallen kingdom." Akaashi takes his hands away as Hinata's naïve eyes fill with an echo of sadness.  


"You're not degraded! You're the best prince I've ever known and we need to leave right now. Please come with us. Don't you miss going outside?"  


"Of course I do! I miss it so much and yearn for so many things but there is a time and place for everything and the time for the things I loved are in the past."  


Sugawara shakes his head at this, not letting Akaashi move from his gaze as he gently grasps his hands. "We need to bring you home prince Akaashi, I have so many things to discuss with you and it has been so long since I've heard you play on your violin. The world feels so quiet without it. I feel so quiet without you, please come. Even if we can't make a kingdom out of this, we can still make a new family with just the three of us.”  


"I can even do your hair! I've been practicing on Sugawara, I think I have figured out what to do with those curls. Not mine though, the world isn't prepared for what I'd look like with straight hair." Hinata beams and tugs on a stray strand of his orange curls.  


Akaashi lets a small smile escape but shakes his head sadly. His remorse grows the longer they stay. Yet, he doesn’t let go of Sugawara’s hands. " I can't leave, even with your key I will still be tied to this room where so much was stolen."  


"Everything bad will dull and we will try to keep your head above the water you seem set on drowning in. You don't deserve this, no one does. You are a person Akaashi, not someone's plaything. You deserve happiness and friends. Prince or no prince, we can try our best to make you feel whole again."  


Akaashi looks at him for a long pause. He imagines a world free from all titles, one where he had never carried a crown or was tied to a bed. A world of hard work and a tired sense of comfort between people he trusts. To wake up every day and be able to have something that's forever been dancing just out of his sight, freedom.  


He wants it so bad. He wants to grab both their hands and find where the key around Sugawara's neck can lead him.  


He nods slowly and something prickles at his eyes. Tears are waiting to consume him as he begins nodding frantically. “I would love nothing more. Let’s go find our own home.”  


Sugawara and Hinata beam as Hinata gently takes the key from Sugawara’s neck and cradles it carefully as if he fears it might disintegrate in his hands. Bending down slowly, he beings to push the key into the lock, and then freezes.  


“It doesn’t fit,” Hinata chokes out. Time stands still long enough for their blood to chill.  


Akaashi’s tears slowly begin to eat his vision and his legs begin to sway. A steady throng of ‘no’s’ streamed from his mouth.  


Forever the mediator, Sugawara is moving to gently rub a calming hand in Akaashi’s hair. A look of hurt crosses his face when Akaashi flinches away from his touch.  


“I’m sure you’re mistaken Hinata, hand me the key.” Sugawara takes it from Hinata and forces a smile. He takes Hinata’s place as he moves to unlock the chain, but to no avail. The key wasn’t going to fit.  


“I guess the key doesn’t lock everything in this room,” Akaashi murmurs. For a second he wanted to wipe away his tears, and laugh, because of course! Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. The worst nightmare is the one that never ends.  


Hinata had started to cry and he latches himself onto Akaashi’s legs like a small child. Sugawara’s smile has finally faded and he begins to pace frantically. Pulling at his hair as he tries to reason what they could do next, but each idea meets a wall, and all because of that damn chain.  


“There must be something we can do,” Sugawara cries out exasperated.  


Akaashi gives him a teary-eyed smile, “There is something you can do, what both of you can do.”  


Sugawara clutches his hands, his head already shaking in disagreement. Refusing the words that he knew would be dripping off Akaashi’s lips.  


“You can leave. Both of you must leave. Take that key and lock the door, and then throw it as far away as you can so you can never come back.” Akaashi holds their gaze and he sets his back straight. The posture of a prince, an authoritarian, a scrap of someone he was in a distant life. “Just promise me you won’t forget my name. I will never forget either of yours. I love you both.”  


Hinata is sobbing and snot trickles into his open mouth. “N-No, You-u can’t j-just… we n-eed yo-y… you’re fam-mi-ly.” He takes in a deep breath of air,” We’re staying.” Sugawara says nothing more and neither does Akaashi.  


Akaashi gingerly wipes tears from the corners of Hinata’s eyes, wrapping him into a tight embrace. He pulls the silent Sugawara into their hug and together, just the three of them, they wait for the world to fade away.  


Akaashi hums a familiar, but slightly different tune. Stroking Hinata’s hair, and half burying his face into Sugawara’s shoulder, His song comes out muffled but still soothing as it lures them into the promise of tranquility.  


They never wanted to let go.  


“This is how you repay me, huh?” A loud voice booms into the room, followed by the harsh sound of a door closing.  


All three of them startle. They look up slowly, prolonging the inevitable as their gazes met golden eyes slowly stepping forward. His sword strapped to his side, jostled with every movement and panic seized into Akaashi.  


“I allow you two,” he raises two fingers to point at Hinata and Sugawara,” a spot into my castle, a position I’m sure any other Rheam stray would kill for, and you do … what? Try to kidnap Akaashi? Really? You think I would allow some maid to have a key that would remove his chain? This was all for what? To go off and disappear into the sunlight together?” A wretched laugh escapes Bokuto’s mouth as he stops in front of them, echoing off the walls and making Akaashi feel small.  


“Well you have another thing coming, because Akaashi is mine. Just like everything in this kingdom, and that includes both of your lives. What do I need of servants who try to take my belongings?” Bokuto steps forward and withdraws the sword at his hip.  


Sugawara and Hinata are shaking, fear reflecting in both of their big brown eyes. Akaashi moves in front of them. Spreading his arms wide as a makeshift shield.  


“I really am just a belonging to you? Something you use up till you run out?” Akaashi is shaking too, but not with fear. Rage. “I’m not yours and I never will be, but do what you must to me. Leave my family alone.” Akaashi is panting by the time he bites each word out, his entire body seething. He needed to get his family out of here safely and he couldn’t back down till they were a long way away. He couldn’t lose his family a second time.  


“Family,” Bokuto barks out, his face distorting into disbelief. “What do you know of family? The ones I sent off to the gallows weren’t even your family. They were birth givers that dressed you in their will and wanted you as nothing more than their next ruler. They surely didn’t love you. Are you just latching onto these filths because you’re that desperate for love? You don’t need them because I love you. You’re mine and I love you! That’s all you need!”  


Akaashi stands firm and hisses, “You don’t love me. I don’t think you know how to love anything anymore. You just twisted the word around until it fits what you need. Love is sacrifice, compassion, putting someone else’s needs before your own. You’re the farthest thing from what I need. You’re poison.”  


Bokuto’s look of disbelief shifted to match Akaashi’s own anger. “Move out of the way Akaashi,” Bokuto grits out. He’s glaring furiously at the two quivering bodies behind him, but Akaashi just shakes his head and refuses.  


“Touch them and you will live to regret it one day.”  


Bokuto knocks Akaashi roughly to the floor and his head thumps on the ground harshly. He raises it too quickly and a wave of nausea rushes through him as he tries to get up. By the time he scrambles to his feet, Bokuto has already gripped Hinata by his shoulder, with his sword horizontal to Hinata’s throat. Sugawara laid unmoving on the floor, the only clarification that he was still alive was the slow rising of his chest.  


Akaashi has never felt this level of terror before, his heart beating so fast that he thought it might beat right out of his chest. “If you do this I will never forgive you.” Akaashi slowly steps forward to them but Bokuto just takes a step back.  


“Take this as a lesson. You should never disobey me, and for god’s sake, don’t ever try to leave me again.” Bokuto quickly pushes Hinata away, only to draw his sword back and pierce his mid-section. He pushed till it protruded from out of his back, twisting and winding the blade until it slips out and Hinata crumbles to the floor.  


Hinata’s eyes are opened wide in shock, small hands reaching to touch the gaping hole in his stomach. Pulling his hand back to stare at the red covering his palm. A choked sob of panic erupted from his throat and Akaashi stood powerless as Bokuto brought his sword up again to crack the hilt against Hinata’s skull. Leaving the tiny boy limp on the floor, bleeding out of a wound far too big to heal.  


A piercing wail of anguish erupted from somewhere deep inside of Akaashi. He moves to the boy but is interrupted when Bokuto grabs a fistful of his hair and drag him towards his bed, and knocks his head into the bed’s frame. Making Akaashi feel woozy as he’s tossed onto the mattress. Powerless as he watches Bokuto creep forward to where Sugawara laid listless on the floor.  


Bokuto throws a smile dripping with venom at Akaashi. “Watch closely, it’s time you learn a very important lesson.” Bokuto grabs Sugawara’s head as he shakes him to attention. “Wakey wakey sunshine,” Bokuto sings as Sugawara’s eyes blink open groggily. Bokuto’s smirk widens impossibly wide as Sugawara’s fear registers in his eyes.  


Bokuto sharply brings Sugawara’s head crashing to the heard ground. A sickening noise feels the room as he continues to slam Sugawara’s head repeatedly on the ground until his face is warped with blood.  


“This…is…why…you...don’t…ever…try…to…leave…me.” Bokuto punctuates each word with Sugawara’s face smacking against the floor. When he finally stops, Sugawara is completely still, his face unrecognizable amongst the blood he seems to be drowning in.  


Akaashi lies broken hearted on his bed, his brain has yet to fully make sense of the gruesome bloodbath he had just been a witness to. The clogs in his brain turning slowly as he comprehends Bokuto walking towards him with a huge smile on his face. The worst part is that his smile seemed completely genuine at the prospect of killing those he loved.  


Bokuto wipes blood onto the sheets of the bed, although, that’s not the first time they’ve been stained that color. Without breaking eye contact he takes off his armor, stripping until he stood completely bare. His member already hard and erect.  


His face contorts into a snarl as he moves to grip Akaashi’s waist, tugging him across the bed until he’s bent over on the far side of the mattress. Directly facing Sugawara and Hinata’s bodies. Akaashi tries to slam his eyes shut, but Bokuto keeps them peeled open. Forcing him to singe the memory of his only friend’s discarded remains far into his brain. His eyes sting with tears he can’t blink away as Bokuto ruts into his skin at the end of his spine. Akaashi wonders how a beast can wear the skin of a man so well and poorly at once.  


When Bokuto pushes into his body he feels like he’s being torn apart and everything aches. Bokuto sharply pushes into him with a harsh snap. A deep, primal like grunt escapes his mouth as he continues to push, embedding himself into Akaashi.

Akaashi doesn't gasp or let out a whimper. He clamps his mouth shut and represses his feelings. Yet, it doesn't work out as attended. Every time rough hands trail over his skin, it doesn't become easier. Nothing will make this easier. Experience to it only makes him feel numb. His heart threatening to stop if he could let it.  


This time he keeps his mouth shut out of a vile need to protect whatever is left. Needing to keep even the tiniest scrap of pride intact, if not for himself, then for his wide-eyed friends staring at him.

Something begins to break inside Akaashi, maybe it’s when he hears his name, or when he feels teeth digging into his neck. His inner emotions overflow their tipping points and his stomach sinks slowly like a stone skipping on the water before slowly descending to the ocean floor beneath the rushing waves.  


“Kill me,” he murmured so quietly that you could almost miss it, but Bokuto missed nothing.  


Bokuto seemed to freeze, ending the rough jerking to grip harshly at his skin. His nails sunk even harsher at the skin on his arms. “Repeat what you just said,” he demands.  


So, Akaashi does. He screams it over and over again. Begging to the high heavens until his throat is raw for his demise. Screaming for death, one swift and fast, or one dragged out and filled with pain. It didn’t matter if he didn’t have to wake up to another day without hope, with nothing to do but stare bleakly out of a window far away from where his home used to be.  


Bokuto roughly grabs his throat, moving to take hold of his jaw to roughly open it and shove his fingers in his mouth.  


“If you keep talking like that I’ll have no choice but to remove your tongue.” Bokuto’s voice quivers when he says that and out of the corner of Akaashi’s eyes he catches a glimpse of Bokuto’s appearance. He looks as disturbed and frazzled as Akaashi feels every waking moment and it’s not fair. He doesn’t get to feel the same emotions as Akaashi as he sticks his fingers down his throat. Reaching far past his tongue until he gags and slobbery foodless bile escapes and spills out of the corners of Akaashi’s mouth. Some of the remaining blood on Bokuto’s hands rubs off into his mouth. The coarse burning and the way his throat clutches around Bokuto’s fingers make him dizzy and they slip out of his mouth with a slick and gross sound as he wipes them on Akaashi’s cheeks.  


“Never say those words again, your life isn’t your own Akaashi. You don’t live for yourself anymore, only for me.” His eyes glaze over darkly as he begins to push into Akaashi again with a renewed fever.  


Akaashi’s increasing need to be engulfed by flames only increased by the second. His head popped like a balloon when the thrusts started again but he wasn’t paying attention anymore. He finally had the freedom to close his eyes, but he continues to stare at the horrors of what his friends have become. He looked at their features that were now unrecognizable and mentally corrected them to how they used to be.

He blessed their kind souls and how they were so quick to sacrifice their lives to save him. He loves them. Yet, this ugly feeling of dread started to build up inside him as he wishes they hadn’t left him alone. He wanted to be with them in the dark unknown of what death had to offer. He wanted so bad to hear someone, anyone but him, say his name.  


He barely notices when Bokuto finishes and pulls out, brushing his nails gently against his scalp and whispering a soft, tainted, I love you. Leaving the smell of death in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the kudos and comments!
> 
> I apologize for these updates being so slow. Life has been hectic. 
> 
> At least half of this chapter was powered by tea and the Moana soundtrack. God bless. I don't think gruesome scenes were suppose to be written with 'You're welcome' playing in the background, but it worked.


	5. The Definition of Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Unreliable narrator

The bodies were missing the next morning. Every drop of blood and sign of their existence was wiped clean from the room.  


Akaashi can close his eyes and pretend that they had never come to rescue him. That they were still working somewhere in this castle, and the thought of saving Akaashi had never crossed their minds. That they were safe. That he hadn’t lost the last few people in his life that had never demanded much from him. The only ones that didn’t make him feel like he had to be someone different.  


His parents had wanted him to be a strong heir to rule their kingdom once they passed. They devoted so much time into making him what they considered the perfect ruler. However, that consisted only of Akaashi doing nothing but what is best for his people. A violin was snatched out of his hands every time he yearned to drag his fingers along the string and pick up his bow to play. Time was not to be wasted on trivialities such as music.  


Where were his people now? The people that he was supposed to rule over and always held such lofty expectations were nowhere to be found. They were most likely dead or treated as slaves to Bokuto’s people.  


Akaashi would see them in his dreams, they screamed and begged for deliverance from such a cruel fate. Akaashi never had a better outcome to give them.  


Akaashi wonders if they would care if he played his violin now. His hands were too delicate and frail to save them, they were crafted to create music. The desire to hold a violin in his grasp ate away at his mind. The need to play consumed his brain constantly, it devoured him. It’s the one thing he needed to do before he escaped this world and its unfaltering chains.  


He couldn’t stand the thought of being tied to Bokuto forever, the idea of it sends his mind reeling. Every day spent under his control tugged at his remaining sanity. It’s like he’s constantly under water and being told to breathe in. It’s suffocating and draining, and makes his head spin.  


Growing up, Akaashi had thought that Bokuto was one of the few people that had accepted him without the endless lists of beliefs that make up his very being because he had the misfortune of being born in such an inescapable body, with skin like elastic that snapped him back into place. Yet, Bokuto ended up proving him wrong about that time after time. Only Bokuto didn’t want him to be a ruler, or even for him to be a person.  


Bokuto wanted a doll. He wanted a doll that he could toss off a balcony and still be flawlessly intact. A compliant toy that is effortlessly manipulated by simple touches. Something pretty to look at and soft to touch. A thing that doesn’t speak or show emotions. A thing that was so far away from being human, and Akaashi finds himself falling into the role easily, as the nights pass by.  


Would it be too late for him to return to their days as children and fix something? Could he go back and distance himself from the Golden eyed boy? Maybe if he had acted perfect like his parents had wanted, Bokuto would have been bored of him and would have never returned for him. He wouldn’t have destroyed everything that he held dear. If only Akaashi hadn’t been so selfish.  


Bokuto said he was going to protect him, but is isolating him really the way to do that? Keeping him out of the reach from other people does little to erase the desire to know what it would feel like to leap from his window. Akaashi’s eyes always tottered between a look of apathy and a dangerous need to fly into harm’s way. He could feel freedom on the roof of his mouth if he stared at the window long enough.  


Keiji bets it would be beautiful, the jump that is. He imagines that if he was to run full force at the window he wouldn’t even feel the glass against his skin. He’d be soaring through the sky far away from the town until gravity takes hold of him and sends him crashing into another realm where Sugawara and Hinata would be waiting for him. There would be no way for Bokuto or anyone for that matter to stop him then, but as of now, that chain around him won’t allow for him to be so daring. If he were to jump now he’d be left to dangle not too far away outside of the window until something broke and he came collapsing down or someone came to pick him up as if he was a baby bird that had tried to fly out of its nest before they were ready.  


The only disappointing thing about dying is that he wouldn’t get to see Bokuto’s face afterwards. If he were to die he bets that Bokuto’s reaction would be hilarious, face contorted into an ugly blend of surprise and anger, maybe even something that resembles despair thrown in.  


Would he curse Akaashi for escaping him? Would he mourn him, or would he have mourned the fact that his doll had scraped together enough free will to get away in the only way possible? Maybe he would be demented enough to disfigure this body and torment the shell of himself. How disgusting, it’s a truly fitting reaction for a beast.  


The whole idea of his death hurting Bokuto brought a flush of red to his cheeks and a loud rush of laughter that bubbles out and spills into the room, echoing on the ever-inclosing walls that have become his prison. His eyes tear up with joy as it consumes him and takes control of his body. He feels this unconceivable thrill of excitement as it rejuvenates him. It’s his first genuine smile in a long time.  


“It’s only a matter of time,” Akaashi mutters. His eyes weighted down with exhaustion. A small smile still grazing his lips as he fell asleep.

 

***

 

Akaashi was pulling out pieces of his hair when Bokuto decided to appear. Disappointment laid out blatantly clear on his face but Akaashi dismisses it instantly when he catches sight of something hidden behind Bokuto’s back.  


“Can you lessen that glare a bit, Akaashi? I’ve come with a gift for you after all.” Bokuto pulls out a violin from behind him. “Though I’m not completely sure you deserve it, this is yours.”  


Akaashi stared at him for a long stretch of silence. “What do you want in exchange for it? My body? Is this some ploy to try and convince yourself that everything will be okay if you take me willingly at least once?” Akaashi’s eyes became dark and he smiled with too many teeth.  


To be completely honest, Akaashi wouldn’t care. Bokuto had already told him his body wasn’t his own and Akaashi knew at this point he could force himself to do almost anything. He would do everything for that beautiful instrument. His hands ached to take hold of it and play till his fingers were bloody and blistered.  


Bokuto becomes unsure. “Why would I need anything from you? You seem so different lately. Your mind is so difficult to decipher, you’re like your own walking cryptic code and you know what? I think you enjoy being unknowable.”  


Akaashi only hums in response, his eyes could only hone in on the crafted wood in his hands.  


Bokuto shakes his head, “What is wrong with you?”  


Akaashi’s snaps his head back up to meet his gaze, his whole face contorting into a sneer, “Isn’t that my line?”  


“What have I done to you?”  


“Everything but what I’ve asked of you.”  


“It’s only fair. I’ve only wanted you to love me but you rather kill yourself than be with me. Don’t you realize how much that hurts Keiji? To have you under my control and in my grasp, only for you to treat me as a stranger. It hurts so much, damn it! Why don’t you understand?”  


“I understand that you think you love me.”  


“What do I need to do for you to love me?”  


“Bury me with their bodies when I die.”  


Bokuto snorts, “Who? The servants? Their bodies went up in flames with the rest of the filth. You and your talk of death is growing tedious Akaashi. Find a better pastime.”  


Akaashi’s teeth grind together and he bears them at Bokuto like a wild animal. He feels himself growing feral and he’s so tempted to give in. He yearns to just completely give into madness and lunge at the man’s throat. Spraying the whole room with his blood.  


Bokuto dismisses his display and turns away from him without giving Akaashi the advantage of having his back fully turned. An underlined weariness showed in his tense posture. He walks the diameter of the room slowly before tossing the violin at Akaashi. Watching him with a somewhat eager expression.  


Akaashi’s annoyance drops as his eyes brighten in wonder and awe as he runs his hands up and down the instrument. It felt so strange and foreign to hold the instrument so close, but at the same time he feels like he’s been reunited with a severed limb. Tears swarmed nearby, but he forced them away with hard blinks. His tears were becoming a far more common occurrence then he could tolerate.  


Akaashi probably could have spent hours just staring longingly at his instrument if it wasn’t for Bokuto’s voice cutting through the muteness of the room.  


“I hate to interrupt this… um, reunion but could you get on with it. I didn’t give you a violin so you could gaze at it. Play,” Bokuto demands.  


Akaashi would normally just level him with an annoyed glare but not today. His body was already in complete control of his mind as he brought the violin to rest under his chin. His fingers reaching to pluck experimentally with the strings before gripping his bow in a firm but soft grasp. He felt his stance completely mold into the right posture to begin. His pulse raced and exhilaration coursed through his being as he played his first note. The sound filled the air until he erupted into action.  


Note after note streamed out of Akaashi. His song started softly and soon became adamant. Akaashi was a possessed man as he was overtaken by this soul sapping melody. It gushed out of him with every swipe of his bow. His face drawn into pure unaltered concentration as he poured out his pain. Every high note represented his screams of anguish and every note that dipped low was him sinking into the center of the earth.  


When the song came to an end Akaashi was beaming and his face pulled into unimaginable bliss. A fond smile tugged on his lips as he was comforted by the slight pain in his wrist.  


“Beautiful. You’re almost there Akaashi. Almost.” Bokuto was staring at him with unbridled happiness.  


Akaashi felt something close to embarrassment at being reminded that Bokuto was watching him play. The experience had felt so intimate and he could feel his face flush at remembering he had just shared such an intense moment. Which is undeniably ridiculous, this person had seen so much more than just him playing his violin.  


“Almost what?” Akaashi questioned after a long pause. His gaze cast somewhere behind Bokuto, his smile not completely gone from his face. He was still basking in the afterglow.  


“That’s the big question, isn’t it?” Bokuto asked. He walked over to Akaashi and stole a quick kiss before leaving.  


Akaashi was taken aback, violin still in hand and a smile pasted even wider upon his lips.  


‘This is really mine, huh?’ Akaashi wondered, he was completely astounded. It’s been awhile since he’s had something to call his own.  


Another thought peeped into Akaashi’s head. A monster made him happy.  


Huh.  


Maybe everything would be easier if he fell in love with that scary monster. If Bokuto could contort the word love into whatever he wants than so could he.  


Akaashi decides their love will be whatever gets him closer to what death tastes like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only knowledge I have about the violin is what I learned from my two weeks of lessons in the third grade. Forgive me.
> 
> One more chapter left!!!!
> 
> I'm curious,  
> What do you guys think will happen next?  
> What do you want to happen next?


	6. Doing the Exact Same Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took forever because I suck.
> 
> Shout out to sou1stea1er for giving me some recent motivation to get my butt in gear

Recently the main view outside of his window has been Bokuto’s people rioting in the streets. They yell and chant slurs and dismiss the authority of their ruler. They demand for their retribution to be paid in blood.  


Akaashi cheers them on.  


Bokuto is reduced to a mess whenever he visits, constantly fidgeting, and his face contorting into a million emotions at once. Always pacing back and forth, biting at worn nailbeds and looking at Akaashi expectedly when he stops playing his violin.  


Bokuto had stopped coming only at night, making his appearances unpredictable. He came often to watch Akaashi play, he sensed that it soothed the man in the same way it calmed Akaashi to immerse himself in his songs.

Bokuto had also recently stopped touching Akaashi so violently. He no longer pinned him to a bed and ripped into him as a starving man would dig into his first meal in weeks. His touches leaned more towards gentle caresses. Feather soft touches that struck something new inside him. They danced over a string in his body he hadn’t know existed and he couldn’t be certain that he didn’t like it.  


Akaashi was conflicted. He had felt that every trace of pain that lingers long after Bokuto’s fingers kept him grounded. Without it his mind had a harder time grasping what’s to come next. Distorting him further and further, until the pained portrait of himself resembled an abstract painting of black and yellow.

Akaashi isn’t sure who he should be anymore. His life has merely become a guessing game of what he thinks Bokuto wants. He can become anything he is needed to become, and that includes transforming into a hideous monster.

Yes. Akaashi could become anything. Anything but human. 

***

The Kingdom arose in fire and smoke as the people gave birth to their ideals through violence. It seemed the entire world was burning as the people marched towards the palace with their mouths wide open, chanting and yelling. Refusing to be placated by meaningless promises anymore.  


Previous slaves were dressed in rags and a new resolve. They stood by their fellow work men who had previously spat at them. They come together, completely equal as they go off to demand the death of others or receive its embrace themselves.  


Children clung to their mothers as they watched their world slowly change. There is too much suffering in the people’s eyes for it to not.  


The people are hungry. They are all aching and screaming for the one thing that will soothe their hurt.  


They are screaming for the head of the King.

 

***

Akaashi has seen Bokuto vulnerable many times. His switching personalities come and go faster than the winds of Autumn. He has seen Bokuto cling to his back and suffocate him with his emotions as he sobbed ugly soundless words in the hollow of his neck. More than once Bokuto has thrown himself at Akaashi’s feet and begged him to never leave him. Like a bratty child would do to their mother.  


But this was the first time he has placed a sword into Akaashi’s hands and asked him to take off his head.  


“The people have long since tired of me and it’s only a matter of time before they get through.” Bokuto’s lip wobbles but his eyes are strong. He uses them to try and convey something significant to Akaashi, but Akaashi doesn’t comprehend it’s meaning. “If anyone is to cut off my head, it’s only fitting that it’s you.”  


Akaashi watches Bokuto for a long moment before shifting his attention to the weight of the sword. It’s heavy, but manageable, the weapon was built to go straight through bone. It’s the one Bokuto carries with him everywhere. Polished and so well maintained, it looks brand new. Yet, it has killed many. It has killed the people Akaashi loved most.  


Suddenly, the sword weighs a thousand pounds.  


Akaashi loses himself for another long moment and imagines a life in the outside world where he can sleep knowing that at least he’ll have vengeance on the one person who has managed to steal everything from him. His friends and family. The right to his own body.  


All Akaashi has been left with is his mind, but every day that slips further and further away from the truth.  


He tries to imagine where he would go if any part of him is able to escape the walls of the room. He pictures himself somewhere far away from everything that has suffocated the will to live out of him. A place uninhibited by any other person or scary thing. A place where feeling lonely is justifiable.  


Akaashi sees himself standing by a small house on sand overlooking the Ocean. The waves are the loudest things he’ll hear and sunburns are the worst of his problems. Empty graves with his friend’s names on them will be close by so he can visit them every day.  


He has never seen the Ocean before but he’s sure it’ll be beautiful. He just needs to leave. He needs to escape and never look back and god damn it he just can’t be here, and there’s only one thing keeping him rooted to this spot.  


So Akaashi picks up the sword and raises it high. High above, until he feels his arms strain and his feet threaten to leave the ground if he reaches any further. His hands are steady and he takes one big breath before swinging the sword down hard.  


It clangs against metal but he’s satisfied when he notices it brakes.  


The heaviness of the cuff on his ankle will remain, but Akaashi feels so light he could fly. He is finally able to walk to the door on his own for the first time.  


He hears someone’s breath catch and his eyes lighten in surprise. “I can’t believe I almost forgot,” Akaashi mutters to himself as he trails past Bokuto. He finds himself in front of the bed, for the last time, picking up his forlorn violin with the same tenderness you would use with a child.  


Akaashi places his violin in the crook of his left armpit and holds Bokuto’s sword strongly in his right, before disappearing out the door.  


***  


Bokuto had watched Akaashi’s back silently as Akaashi moved away from the room and away from him. The remains of the chain on Akaashi’s ankle clanked on the ground with every step until they faded out of view.  


Bokuto feels his face pull together in disbelief. For reasons unknown, he has been spared. It awakens a newfound grief in his heart, because it doesn’t feel like he was spared, it feels like he was abandoned.  


It’s not an entirely new feeling. His parents abandoned him after they died practically one after the other. They left him with a broken empire to piece back together and natural resources that had begun to run out years ago. They weren’t a powerful empire, the previous royalty were just well trained into tricking the people into thinking they had everything under control.  


Of course, it all fell apart when he came to power. How stupid. He couldn’t even manage to trick his idiotic subjects who had the minds of cattle. How could he have possibly thought that he could convince the sharp minded Keiji to love him?  


Keiji was calculated and beautiful in a way that didn’t run just skin deep. He was the first and last friend Bokuto had ever made. He was also the first and last person he’s ever loved.  


Bokuto had treasured their friendship more than anything and when they first parted ways he was left with a loneliness that has never really gone away. Yet, he ruined their friendship like he ruined everything else. He’s just so pathetic that even after begging for death, he had been left abandoned by the person who hates him most.  


He was so fucking pathetic it made him want to laugh. So, he did. Bokuto barreled over laughing until he could feel the pain in his stomach override the pain of being alone. He kept laughing until his choked-out sobs made it hard to breathe, until his face enflamed, and until he felt himself slip closer to oblivion.

 

Bokuto awoke to the sound of a violin playing. The soft tune filled his veins with something akin to poison. He slowly stood up to follow the noise through the vast corridors.  


It was a tune of a mad man. A harmony of sorrow brought on by a century of pain, and a bellow of twisted visions and violent dreams.  


This was the song of insanity.  


The sound led him to a hall lined with windows. A shower of sunlight drifted through them and illuminated crimson stains on the marble floors.  
Standing in a mass of several bodies, was a slim and tall figure. Graced with raven black hair and poised shoulders. His back faced Bokuto as his arms withered and tore away at a brown violin with his bow.  


He gave no indication that he noticed Bokuto's arrival, but he was surrounded by a deathly aura so thick it challenged Bokuto’s ability to breathe.  


Bokuto watches silently, struggling to click pieces together. Like who the faces of the carcasses belong to. He counted seven bodies, but they were left unrecognizable. Sliced faces and missing appendages. It was a showcasing of unnecessary violence and malicious intent. This was an intended massacre, a mission without mercy. So unlike Akaashi’s precise ways of fighting. This being was so unlike Akaashi.  


A beautiful sword was still embodied into a fallen victim. The helping hand that eradicated the perpetrator's enemies, had been abandoned for his beloved musical instrument. It was of course, no other sword than Bokuto’s very own. A strange sort of apprehension fills his mind.  


The song finally ends and when the man turns, Bokuto meets a stranger.  


His hair, upon closer inspection, is matted with blood and curves around his face. His slanted eyes are dark and his pupils are blown wide. His thin lips draw into a small jaded smile. Blood paints his face and stains his hands and clothing. He sets his bow and violin down with great care, and opens his arms wide.  


Bokuto rushes into these stranger’s arms. Wrapping him tightly in his embrace and crashing to the ground.  


A thousand words needed to be said but all he could think of was: “You spared my life. Why?”  


“I have begged you for death for so long. It’s not fair that you would get it the first time you asked.” Akaashi raises his bloody hands and covers Bokuto’s eyes. “I owe you nothing, but you, you are broken. Shattered. Tarnished. You owe me a life time of suffering and agony. There will be no more easy ways out. I pray that you will face every tragedy there is left on this Earth and I will stand by your side to make sure they’re carried out.”  


"That's all I can ask for." Bokuto blindly reaches out to takes Akaashi's face in his hands. Smoothing them over his blank face. Ever so slowly, he locks their lips together. It tastes only of blood.  


The song of insanity was ringing in Bokuto’s head, but Akaashi wasn't playing it this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:I had like 50 different way I wanted to end this but here we are. A unhappy confusing relationship deserves a unhappy confusing ending. 
> 
> I guess the ending is a little open ended but I like to imagine that they'll probably pull a louis the sixteen and escape the castle at night (without fucking failing like Louis) And pose as gentry somewhere in a countryside far far away. Until one of them snaps and stabs the other in their sleep. My moneys on Akaashi.
> 
> I'm full of mixed feelings but I'm mostly just really happy that I finished my first multi-chapter fic. I'll probs do another one in the future.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading guys.


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